


Of Colors

by sirhin



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirhin/pseuds/sirhin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hankyung thinks of the past, the present, and what the future might hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Colors

**Author's Note:**

> In lieu of what has happened, it took me 15 minutes to get hold of a plot bunny, 1 day to convince myself to do something about it, and too much time to actually type it up and convince myself to make it public. Please note that this is my first foray into writing in this fandom, which I've only truly been a member of for the better part of a month (yes, I'm aware of the fact that I'm dreadfully late) and it's been over a year since I last wrote for any fandom.
> 
> Originally Posted at LiveJournal on 17 March 2010.

Contrary to popular belief, it actually wasn't pitch black behind closed eyes; it depended on what was happening beyond what one saw. If there was bright sunlight upon your face, then it would be a bright color that could almost be considered the stark white of an iridescent light, only more raw and with a hint of red, if that was possible – even to the point of being painful. If a cloud were to pass over the sun, then you would undergo a short period where the color shifted to a more muted grey; it was a good break from the harsh light from before, but it flickered across one's vision rather like the more unfavorable thoughts at the edge of your mind.

At that moment, I opened my eyes to welcome what would be the plain, off-white ceiling of my room if my lights were on. Light emitting from a nearby lamppost from outside my window filtered in through the blinds that I hadn't closed completely, projecting even black-and-white stripes upon one half of my room. I had just gotten into bed from yet another day that was filled with classes and resting with random English vocabulary and sentence structures from today's lesson still floating through my mind. I could hear Ma fiddling around in the kitchen doing last-minute things and preparing for the next day. Ever since she had opened the second dumpling shop, she had become increasingly busy because all of her time was dedicated to tending to the business. When I was in Korea, we would occasionally talk on the phone, but it wasn't the same as before – but she seemed to be happy and that made me worry a little less.

Truth was almost everything was different and it all led up to my interview and all of my worries were because of said interview and all of the surrounding repercussions that have already occurred or have yet to happen.

Although I had once said that I had no regrets, I couldn't help but wonder if this really was the right route. I had no doubts in my mind that everyone would be able to move on eventually, but I knew it would be hard in the beginning. I definitely felt the anxiety and the almost painful anticipation of standing at a fork in the road, uncertain of which path I should take. But no, I had already chosen my own path, hadn't I? In truth, although it was hard, the hardest part was yet to come while I waited for the decision from the court and for everything else to fall into place. The main question was if everything would turn out all right in the end.

That question passed through my mind so many times that it had almost become a mantra of a sort. I was certain that I had no regrets with Super Junior or with my foray into the entertainment industry. Neither did I have regrets when it came to filing the lawsuit itself; I was sure it was the best for me. I remember the hard months training in Korea and living away from my home, my family. I remember that on top of the regular hardships and training, I had to endure the hours of learning Korean, but in the end, I even laughed along with the others when I was teased for my faulty pronunciation of Korean. I remember getting close to the other members: our first time hanging out and drinking, our first album, our first variety show, the moment when I realized that they had become more than just mere friends but something more akin to family, even with the cultural differences, and that made everything worth it. And in the end, perhaps that was the one thing that made me doubt my words. Did I really choose the right path?

It was because it all came down to the fact that although we all still kept in touch from time to time, it was hard due to their busy schedules. As a matter of fact, I hadn't received word from them since news of my interview had been made public and it made me worry. Perhaps it was merely a coincidence, but I still had a constant shadow hovering over me and the subject of regrets and if I did the right thing became louder and louder, steadily increasing with intensity like a host of drums beating during a crescendo. It was an ominous sound, but at the same time, it put you on the edge of your seat waiting for see what happened next, except I felt that if it didn't end soon, I would fall into a deep abyss.

My thought process paused as a wide yawn appeared, reminding me of my bodily needs, and I turned over to my side where my eyes settled on a nondescript, 5 by 7 picture, filled to the brim with smiling faces and of times when what I had caused and what I was thinking were subjects unthought-of. I looked over Ryeowook's wide and innocent smile who had the peace sign displayed before him proudly. On Kibum's was his trademark grin. Siwon had a deep dimple gracing his face and it looked as if one hand was in the start position for one of his famous hand gestures. Yesung's visage was one of his more serious ones, but there was a sparkle in his eye and the left corner of his mouth was slightly more uplifted than the other. Picture-Eunhyuk seemed to be in mid-laugh and his arms were raised over his head like someone who was about to take a 75-foot plunge down a roller coaster. My gaze flitted from face to face… Shindong and his dancing skills and love for food, Kyuhyun and his love for Starcraft, Kangin and his loose mouth, sweet Donghae who has a penchant for sweet talking girls, Sungmin and his odd obsession with all things pink, Leeteuk with his protectiveness and need to entertain others, Henry with his amazing skills on the violin and spurred my protective instincts, Zhou Mi whose natural presence on the stage was enviable, and Heechul.

Heechul, who is perhaps my closest friend of them all. The one who was there from the beginning and made me feel accepted by letting me practice my Korean, but by defending me when my nationality became an issue, and by teasing me when he just felt like it. The one who always had a need for Beijing Fried Rice or any sort of advice and was a great drinking buddy. The one who never failed to entertain me no matter what mood I was in. The one who acted like a princess and barged into the bathroom just before I got into the shower to take random pictures. The one who I would be comfortable with even if neither of us were talking and the one I would miss the most, strange habits and all, if I ultimately left. And perhaps, it is he who I need approval and support from the most because if not, I wouldn't know what to do.

Another yawn threatened to interrupt my thoughts but I smothered it down, only to feel my eyes slowly closing on their own accord. My right arm reached over to grab at my cell phone and I brought it over to my face as if I could already hear the ringing tune that would denote a call or even a text message. There were many times that I had wanted to call him – anyone – and see how everyone was doing, how they were holding up, but I ultimately chicken out. What if they had nothing good to say to me? Then again, why would that stop half of them? Better yet – why was it stopping me?

As I eventually give in to sleep, I miss the very sound I had longed to hear and the small screen flashed for a brief moment, illuminating the characters "1 Message from Heechul". Even so, that bright light from my phone somehow got through and I dreamed of a small but brilliantly blue-white light dancing across a large meadow under the night sky that was studded with millions of stars and the perfectly rounded moon that looked upon its kingdom.

When I woke up, I had the comforting feeling that everything would be all right – and that was before I caught sight of the message that he had sent me:

_You still owe me some Beijing Fried Rice~~_


End file.
